


Spark of Curiosity

by starprise_entership



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, based on the greek myth of pygmalion and his statue, where bashir is doctor soong’s assistant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 09:09:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15264141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starprise_entership/pseuds/starprise_entership
Summary: Data accidentally gets activated when Doctor Soong is away for his lunch break.





	Spark of Curiosity

  
Bashir wrings out the soft cloth at the sink, squeezing it between his hands until it no longer drips. “You know, if I were Doctor Soong,” says Bashir, loudly to the room, “I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

The android, still in sleep mode, stands on the pedestal, silent as a brick.

Bashir balls up the cloth in his hands and crosses the room to stand in front of the android. “I like the way your brain’s wired, you know.” He mentions, stepping up to the pedestal. “Miles and I did it together. It’s probably not perfect, but it’s probably the most advanced emulation we could get of a brain in digital form.”

Bashir takes a hold of the cloth and wipes it across the surface of the android’s skin. “But Soong wants some changes to it. Something about your older brother, I think, but I’m not allowed to share it with anybody.”

He carries on, pretending that he’s actually having a conversation with the android. “But you wouldn’t tell, would you?” Bashir narrows his eyes, and peers at the one of the android’s intricately sculpted ears. “Are your microphones on?”

Bashir brings up the cloth to give the ear a good clean. “Da-ta.” He pronounces the android’s name, liking the way it sounds in his mouth. “I’ve worked on you with Doctor Soong and Miles for two years now, and I really do hope you’re worth it.”

He steps back to examine the android’s face. “Though I occasionally wish that he didn’t base your face off his. I mean, it’s not that you look terrible and all, but–hm.” His gloved hand lightly traces Data’s jawline, enjoying the feel of Data’s silky skin underneath.

“Now that I think of it–and it really sounds quite silly–but I think you’re really quite handsome. A handsome android. What a thought.”

Bashir catches himself staring at Data’s face for far too long, and he shakes his head as he continues to wipe Data’s face down. But there’s only so much cleaning he can do, and he finds himself brushing the cloth across Data’s lips in a very absent-minded way.

_Hm. What would happen if I–_

_–no._

“I mean, it’s just ridiculous!” exclaims Bashir, throwing up his arms as he steps down. “Well, people do it all the time in art galleries, and it really is quite a silly idea, and if someone were to walk in on me, that would be–!” He crosses his arms.

He glances back at Data again, and he finds himself feeling a twinge of curiosity as he presses a hand to his own lips. He lowers the hand, steels himself and steps up to the pedestal.

_If nothing good comes out of this, at least this might make for a good story to tell at parties._

In the midst of his excitement-fuelled haze, he hardly registers the click under the heel of his foot until it’s a bit too late. He pulls away, yelping as he trips over a carelessly placed toolbox on the floor, landing flat on his back in the most undignified manner possible.

The computer system whirs to life, and the console lights up.

Data blinks.

“Oh, I’m so sorry for waking you up,” apologises Bashir, scrambling to his feet. “It was a terrible accident, I swear!”

“Strange.” Data quizzically cocks his head to the left, signalling his confusion. “As my systems switched on, I experienced a some form of pressure acting on me in my first one point five seconds of conscience. Were you the one who–“

“Yes,” blurts Bashir, not giving Data the chance to finish. “I’m terribly sorry if you feel you’ve been violated, and I know I should not have acted on my impulses!”

“Since I am an android, I am therefore incapable of feeling violated.”

“But it was wrong, Data. Perhaps you’ll understand later.” Bashir steps around the toolbox and heads for the computer console. “I should probably put you back in sleep mode. Doctor Soong will be back from his lunch break soon and if he finds out that I’ve, well, switched you on at the very least–he’ll sack me, probably.”

“Wait a minute.”

Upon hearing the request, Bashir halts his actions and looks back at the android. “Yes?”

“May I know your name?” Data questions. “I presume that we will be working together in the close future, since Doctor Soong has entrusted you with his lab while he takes his brief leave.”

“Bashir.” He straightens up, extending a hand to the android. “Julian Bashir.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Julian,” says Data, gripping his hand firmly and shaking it.


End file.
